God of Grimdarkness
by Skepsis Forever
Summary: In the grim dark future, the fifth God is born. And it was about time.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**: So... I'm surprised nobody used this idea as far as I know. If I'm wrong, please let me know, it'd be a pleasure to read where it'd go, though I have my own idea on what to do with this fifth God. I've seen of Machine (Dark) Gods and Ahriman attempting to be one, and obviously the Emperor dying and a new Eye opening, but not this, at least not taken seriously. Let me know if I'm doing it well enough.

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><p>At the end of the 41st Millennium, there was only stalemate. Though Abaddon's 13th Crusade threatened to undo all that Humanity had fought for for 10 millennia, though the races of the Galaxy were besieged by countless enemies on all sides and the laugh and the thirst of the Gods were quelled more and more, still it wasn't over. Still there was hope for humanity.<p>

Still there was endless hate and unrealized potential for Abaddon.

He had tried just about anything. Xenos weapons from times forgotten by all but the oldest of _things_, rituals so foul even he couldn't stomach them sometimes, and so much more, all for the greater hate, for the greater revenge. Revenge against Horus by destroying Humanity as both the Emperor or Horus had imagined it or hoped for it. Hate for the Corpse Emperor who would deny him _while being a fucking dying corpse on life support for over 10,000 literally bloody years_. Hate even for the mocking of lesser daemons and of the Gods for his often half-failures.

But for all his hate and all that he had at his disposal, for all the literal Gods that were in his corner, there was one thing, one small thorn that grew and grew and grew in his side that kept stopping him. The grim determination of the uncorrupted. Even in this dark setting, that grimness, even that darkness, would protect them from his masters, even more than the faith in the Corpse Emperor. It let the Eldar continue their pitiful plan to build their own God, it let the Tau continue to fight for the Greater Good, even if not through hope, then through the same determination. It let even the mad gods of the materium, the C'tan, to continue their twisted existence even when they had been betrayed by their own kind and the servants they had given immortality to. It let the Necrons continue to wake and try to salvage their lost and unattainable rights of conquest. It let the Old Ones continue to live on the run in other Galaxies, continuing to breed new civilizations to keep the Great Spiral of their birth in chains should its inhabitants decide to cross its borders to spread the madness they had unwittingly unleashed, even if it seemed hopeless. But worst of all, it let Humanity survive for over 100 centuries. When. It. Should. Not. Have. Done. So.

And then Abaddon had an epiphany. Maybe his own twisted brain came to the conclusion, maybe Tzeentch or even a lower demon supplied this to him. Maybe any warped spawn would have arrived at the same conclusion with its two remaining neurons (if Tzeentch felt magnanimous with it) functioning closely enough to that if human ones.

What did Chaos do with those that stood in its way and couldn't win against them in a fair fight? It corrupted them. It turned their ideals against them, preferably towards Chaos. So what if the Corpse Emperor was unattainable? So what if this grimness sealed them from Chaos? So did the Omnissiah - and oh did Abaddon hate that Ghost of the Machine God - and Chaos had turned half the Mechanicus during the Great Rebellion, hadn't it?

With these thoughts in mind and already formulating heinous rituals and sacrifices in his mind, Abaddon set to work at once. He had waited enough as it was. He called his personal guard and best witches and made planetfall to the part of Cadia they were in (somewhat) control of. If he were anything but Chaos, he would have been warned by his retinue that such a trip on what appeared to be a whim was foolhardy at best and would get them all killed if Abaddon was not certain of the Gods' favor upon them and their endeavor. Of course, none did and his defiled Terminator walked with him in set grimness. The thought made Abaddon _smile_ in a long, long time and it was not a pretty sight for those that witnessed it.

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><p>Between the time he had the idea and when he made planetfall, the plan, the ideal, the future, the creation, the ritual, everything, had already fallen into place in Abaddon's mind. He didn't need to write down his thoughts, to disseminate them through their minions to worse, to <em>remind himself<em> of anything, he was the chosen of the Dark Gods and most daemons feared him and answered his questions truthfully, for they knew if they tried to cross him, what their patrons could do to them in their worst nightmares didn't compare to what Abaddon could. He wasn't their chosen just for his military mind and hate, as great as it raged in him. He had more... refined tastes that impressed even self-proclaimed Gods.

They were uninterrupted as they started their foul work, only the light oranges of sporadic bombardments and the scary beauty of the Eye piercing the black shortly before dawn. As instructed, Abaddon searched the black thing through time and space, below them, and finally found it, thought it seemed... reluctant? Unwilling? Abaddon was surprised, surely such a being would be as eager to be birthed as Slaanesh was when he was barely seeing the power the Warp could give him. No matter, reluctance and the weakness of others had never stopped him in completing his task.

After agonizing minutes, both of the physical and the mental, for both him and his minions, finally, it was done. He heard it, loud and clear, as well as most of the beings in the Galaxy, the Tau included. A roar of anguish, of darkness, strangely devoid of madness, but with a grim prospect, a great legacy. Abaddon smiled for the second time in a few hours' time. A new God was born and the Imperium of the Corpse Emperor and Horus would fall to him.

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I do not own Warhammer 4000 or the characters within the franchise, nor do I profit in any way from this story.


	2. Chapter 2

In 003M42, there was still hope. Of course, those who knew relatively well the machinations of the Warp killed it from their hearts, replacing it with the grimness of survival for the Imperium and the Emperor. Those fell first.

As the new God was born, Cadia fell first, and with it, all of the Cadians. The once battered world was now bathed in shadow and darkness, its steadfast inhabitants remaining resolute in front of the coming apocalypse. But no longer for the Emperor. Now they had someone, _something,_ that could understand them better than the Emperor. The Emperor and His lackeys had given them this drive to fight until now, but now, something greater emerged and none dared or _wanted_ to fight it even if they could.

Cadia became the first Daemon World of the God of Grimdarkness and the "meeting" center of a new Eye of Terror. But strangely enough to the observers after, it did not expand into Imperial territory further than the old one. Instead, it cannibalized Slaneesh's realm. The youngest of the Greater God screamed in anguish and impotent rage as its beautiful creation, its gift to Fulgrim's peacocks, was marred by all-consuming darkness, ever expanding on his former beautiful red-purple orb that had shined over, terrorized and mesmerized at the same time an entire Galaxy and that had been visible until so long from other galaxies, even distant ones, defying gravity, light dispersal theory and other physical laws to anyone who'd see it even across the Universe. This new Eye looked more like an all-compassing black hole, though it only ate light and not the creatures and ships in it, and its inhabitants watched the change mostly uncaring - they had seen worse and the ways of the Warp were always fickle and changing, as well as aliagences.

But the worst hit was indeed the Imperium. Around half of its already depleted forces had turned in the span of a Terran second. From the Guard to the Navy to the Space Marines, Inquisition and Ecclesiarchy, none were safe anymore. When analyzed later, it would be postulated that the reason those thought beyond reproach had turned and defected was not because their loyalty in the Emperor had been destroyed by the foul blackness from the Warp, but because they had not really believed in the Emperor as a man, a god or a savior, but in the _idea_ of merely holding the line and fighting against all odds for their survival and that of their families. It has been further speculated that even the belief in Humanity as a whole would have saved them from corruption. But alas, they were discovered way too late to not believe in any of that, but in an _idea_ and _ideal._ And oh were those so easily corruptible and mendable by Chaos.

The result of the second "exodus" were dire indeed. The first to fall, almost on the second of the birth of the entity (presumable either at the same time or milliseconds after the Cadians), were all the gene-sons of Dorn. There was not one exception from the dour Astartes as, from Chapter Master to lowly scout and even chapter serf decided on a direct way to the new Daemon World from whatever assignment they were sent to or any engagement they were into. It is said that the Black Templars were the most ardent of these new recruits from the Emperor's light and into the Warp's darkness.

The Dark Angels followed suit, minutes after the psychic scream of the thing. Though apparently undecided for those minutes, they took the path to the Eye, taking the remains of their ancient world with them.

Most other Chapters had internal conflicts, but some were, luckily or unluckily, in scattered Companies when the event happened and some Companies decided in mass to defect, while others to stay true to the Emperor's light. There had been noted incidents with alarming regularity of entire Chapters to simply up and leave, or even individual Marines or groups of serfs, not deeming to answer to their brothers. To the later dismay of Imperial authorities, some were simply let go, their loyalist brothers either not seeing the threat for what it was or seeing it and deciding not to do anything more than hold the line themselves to the light of the Emperor and let the fallen leave quietly for their chosen darkness. It is said the Blood Ravens and Silver Skulls let or avoided entire companies from other Chapter to leave to the Eye when they had the opportunity to stop them, at the behest of their Librarians. No sanction had been made against any of these acts, for both fear of yet another rebellion, the need of warm bodies between the Imperium and the new/old Eye, as well as all the other enemies of man. There were also voices that considered this resonation through much of the Imperial forces to not do anything against their fallen brothers a direct message from the Emperor that may have saved countless Imperial lives. In normal times, these would be yelled at as heretical, but in this time of uncertainty, when one more weapon was stolen from Humanity and its Emperor, few things could still be denied.

Of course, many stayed true en mass as well. The Space Wolves, though dour and aggressive in battle, and didn't see the Emperor as a God, were also jovial and joyful in celebration, and it is assumed this saved them from the path of darkness. It is to be noted that although all of Dorn's legacy had fallen, all of Russ', with no exception, stayed loyal to the Emperor and the Imperium. Some of their serfs succumbed however and they were quickly taken care of by the joined forces of the mortals and Astartes alike. Most of the Blood Angels' legacy did the same, though there had been reports of at least a few Blood Angels up and leaving battlefields without warning, reason or indeed retaliation against their former brothers and heading to the newest Daemon World to join their new master. Serfs were put down, but worse, a full scale revolt erupted on Baal, and the Blood Angels were forced to require a _third _time help to their sister/child Chapters, which sparked even more tensions between them and brought harsh words from the mouth of the Flesh Tearer's Chapter Master. But in the end, they all recognized that Sanguinius' blood stayed true in the First Founding Chapter as there was as little defection from them as there was from the rest of the sister Chapters. It has been speculated that what almost condemned them to Khorne during the Horus Heresy actually saved them in this occasion: their mentality was incompatible with Grimdark and a lot more with Khorne, as demonstrated and taken to its extreme by the Flesh Tearers. Either Grimdark didn't want them, or they didn't want that Darkness to fill them, for their thirst was for blood, and apparently, Grimdark would have none of this.

A major blow however came from and to the Ultramarines, as it had half its strength, as well as half of each of its successor chapters, literally walk away to form a new host. They now call themselves the Strongmarines and left to find, populate and create a new Imperium in a world they decided even as they left to name Strongmar. Probably the worst was though, that Calgar led these "awakened" as it was recently termed into the Eye, though not before having words with Tigurius. Whatever had been said is a closely guarded secret of the Ultramarines, though it is suspected some daemons and possible all the new defecting Marines know too well, but whatever it was, it didn't lead them to blows and Tigurius let him go. At least Calgar agreed to leave Guilliman's body on Ultramar and has been loosly quoted as not having any interest in ever wanting to take it for himself or as a symbol of his new Legion. The Strongmarines are now feared to be on par with the strongest known Legion in the Eye, the Word Bearers, possibly numbering more than the former's assumed 60.000 strong.

Another notable defection was the entirety of Krieg, who, unlike their fellows, didn't leave their homeworld, but fortified it and soon conquered their entire system, making and keeping open trade routes with Old Cadia/The New Eye. Chaos Space Marines flocked to their worlds, either to help them or test their strength, but between the three forces, all Imperial attempts to dislodge this mini-Chaos Empire from their midst had failed, even with Astartes support or even Astartes leading the strikes. 

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><p>In the other part of the Galaxy, Abaddon was not gloating. Imperial reports arrived stating that Abaddon had left in a hurry after completing the ritual, taken his ship to the Planet Killer and then fled the oncoming darkness, as it appeared not to wish to assist him, but <em>devour <em>him. If there was one silver lining in this debacle, it was at least that the Arch-Enemy's general would not profit from his foolish act either.


	3. Chapter 3

The Warp was not a calm place most of the time. In fact, it hasn't known true peace since the Old Ones accidentally tainted it all those millions years ago. But now it stirred as it only did 10 thousand years ago by materium standard, though an infinity all by itself by Chaos' standards.

Grimdark woke to be, at least in the first second of his life, the most powerful God in the warp. Yes, it was an immense change, and this fed Tzeetch second only after Grimdark, as Slaanesh's birth had fed him oh so well. Third, it fed Khorne, for he did not care from whence the blood flowed, only that it did, and in truth, Grimdark did not feed on blood or violence, but on resolution. And then there were the losers. Slaanesh had already lost a quarter of his ten millennium struggle and was continuing to lose ground and color, his oh so beautiful color. The Emperor's Children - Gods he didn't know whether to hate that name or amuse himself more that he stole the Emperor's best and favorites - were the only ones truly driven out of their former lands and of Grimdark's ever expanding empire. Chrone worlds were absorbed into Grimdark's Eye, the suffering of the countless Eldar souls abruptly stopping, being replaced with the suffocating resolve of the new God. None knew yet what this would entail, but many of the lost and damned souls actually started _thanking_ and _worshiping_ him. He somehow answered in half-formed images and words that if they wanted to do so, they'd have to resolve themselves to his path and the path of literal darkness, not just metaphorical. To ignore pain and suffering, even their past if need be, and look into the future. Not for hope, not for their people, but for Him. Not even He was sure what he was doing, but he had seen enough of the Others' Empires to know he should at least build his own, and to learn from Slaanesh's mistakes and not try to take them all down, but consolidate what he had.

He felt a sort of happiness, if beings dubbed Ruinous Powers could feel that, of the resolve of those that decided to join him and consolidate his new realm with the fervor of zealots that only the Word Bearers and the Imperium could bring out of men and creatures.

And as the landscape started to change, so did loyalties. From lower Daemons to Daemon Princes, many flocked to this new domain of darkness, without fear that it would consume them. And the former mortals followed, as their superhuman brothers in the Imperium started the trend.

Mortarion and much of his Legion had been made to remember in the moment of the Corpse Emperor's lackeys' flight of their current status, how they were corrupted without their volition by a sadistic entity that claimed to love them, but did its best to break them. They realized they had only left one decaying False God to be brought to their knees of another, one possibly worse than the Emperor. They deserted their Papa in flocks, almost all but the most indoctrinated and "lovable" Death Guard rushing to their stalwart new God. There was someone who understood them, who understood the true meaning of steadfast, of why they had to leave the Imperium that was already in shambles, of how to consolidate their position, and Mortarion liked the association between his Grim Reaper image and the grimness and darkness of this new entity.

The Iron Warriors, normally unaffiliated with Chaos, also recognized the strong will of Grimdark and over half the Legion converted in worshiping him, some still reticent that he still may be a darker facet of the False Emperor, others refusing to side with their centuries-long former enemies, the Imperial Fists. Still, it was a great and high tally that Grimdark had reaped from a normally neutral faction.

The Word Bearers rejoiced in the birth of a new God, but were content with watching from the sidelines and continuing to worship Chaos Undivided, but some of the smarter and more gluttonous warlocks in the Legion were already making deals and learning new magics and techniques of pure darkness not minutes after the giant's birth.

Malal lost half his support exactly on this new God's birth, as those that worked for him without worshiping saw an opportunity to strike at the "old regime" and saw how Malal was so self-destructive that he'd drag them down with him, accomplished revenge and hate or not. Malal was furious, but had enough enemies as it was and now risked losing himself completely, almost being destroyed utterly as he came under the scrutiny of laughing brothers.

But the most surprising and unexpected addition to Grimdark's new realm was the one he had to actually work for, in a manner of speaking. He was old, and tired, and bitter, far different than the idealistic shapeshifting father's son and builder he used to be. Magnus stayed on his obsidian throne in his obsidian tower watching this new turn of events with an almost uncaring eye. He noticed that his master seemed nervous somehow, as though the strands of fate were going against his plans. Magnus looked lazily at the incoming darkness to his realm and stared impassively into it. The darkness made no provocation against him or his sons, and Magnus took it as a good sign. Grimdark did not talk to Magnus as humans would, but through images and memories of the former. He showed all of Magnus' follies, how he was duped, how he had tried to destroy the Space Wolves - or save them? or his Father's Imperium from them?(1) - not even Magnus knew even then, nor now, perhaps not even Tzeentch - , how he had run from fights his whole life, yet this new God still had hope for him. Now Magnus had matured, now he could see - hopefully - staying his ground and fighting for what he believed in was the best course of action. Grimdark proposed Magnus to join him along with his Planet of Sorcerers, and that he would pay a price, of course. His entombed sons by Ahriman would be released, while their unrelenting shells would be replicated so they'd always serve their former prisoners. In return, Magnus was to stay against any threat, and never back down from a fight unless the bigger picture demanded it. Magnus considered, sighing at the need to make another deal with a Daemon, - a construct, for the Great Ocean's sake! -, not even birthed like his sons from mother and father, but having been promised his lost sons' return with so little asked, he reluctantly agreed.

Other than these, Greater Daemons and Daemon Princes from all the other Gods came to him, mostly from Khorne who saw a good place to battle and advance now that their lord was if not descending, at least stagnating, and from Tzeentch, who saw the potential for change and risked their master's eier and loss of knowledge from him for the opportunity to change theirs and others' futures. But of course the Great Betrayer didn't hold that against them, even deciding to lend them a hand from time to time so they'd tangle the web of lies and madness oh so even more beautifully. Even some Daemons of Slaanesh tried to get in on the action, but were pointedly refused, on the grounds that they were really fickle things who cared not for standing against odds or tarnishing themselves, but for their looks first and that their ideals did not match with Grimdark's character. The few allies and spies he could have gained from Slaanesh's camp were thrown away through this, but of course, the new power did not care for that.

It had and would continue to acquire eldar, after all.

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><p>It wasn't only the human empire that was hit by this powerful blow. As much as in some ways the Imperium had created its fifth God quite unexpectedly, Chaos has never cared about which race it would corrupt or would rule the material universe, as long as bloodshed, hope, betrayal, death and assorted sins and emotions would prevail. Grimdark was not the Emperor reborn as a God. He did not care if the grim defenders of his realm were human or xenos, only that they fight the impending horrors of the Universe side by side forever. Nor did it care about their reason, being to protect their families, their species or they own lives and futures, only that they did so.<p>

The Eldar, despite millions of years in learning to manage their tides with the warp, were once again unprepared. The issue, was, of course, that they had prepared for straying thoughts towards lust, not righteous anger towards their Great Enemy. Not against the sorrow of loss and the will to move on. After all, all these thoughts, feelings and ideas had helped stave off the enemy they knew. But new creatures were born in the warp all the time, and as they grotesquely and exagerratedly mimiced the physical universe's inhabitants' ability to adapt to niches and attack or defense mechanisms of both their hunters and pray.

And there was much grimness, darkness, despair and hopelessness, but also resolution in many an Eldar's hearts. When the tide came, they didn't scream, they didn't yell, not like their weaker brothers that almost lost their bodies and minds to the psychic scream of a new birth. Instead, they just upped and left, taking advantage of the lack of cohesion in their brothers'. They knew now that their only hope for the future was not a never-to-be-born god of their own - or too-late-to-be-born anyway - as one was born right now. One willing to gather all who accepted It from all races and fight until the end of time so their kin would not have to. One that saw how they embraced darkness so that others would not have to. One that would fight against any and all odds, even if at the moment it was one of the strongest creatures in existence. One that did not delight in their suffering, or even in its enemies' suffering, but was only content with giving power to those that would not turn away, not even against the (other) Ruinous Powers. A tempting offer that many succumbed to.

In Commoragh, many an Archon found themselves without their Incubi, who left for their temples without a word. The temples are rumored to now be under the sway of Chaos, its wraithbone now of an obsidian color, marked with the eight pointed star and interestingly what apparently looks familiar to the Imperial Mon'Key's heraldry skull. When hearing this, Vect himself is said to have secluded himself for seven days and seven nights to ponder this new factor into his vile equations.

There was also grim determination in the Tau's ranks, but fortunately for them, their worlds were blissfully unaware of most horrors and fights through their Empire. Though half the warriors left, the civilian population was mostly untouched. It is rumored that soon after these events, Farsight's Enclave has become both a bastion for the refugees from the Tau Empire, the Imperium of Man and other xenos races until then unheard of even by tau or man alike. Any plan of the Tau to bring the Enclave back into its fold has been postponed indefinitely, especially with the worrying reports gathered from "advanced scouts". They claim Farsight's capital is now a pitch black fortress with runes similar of that used by the barbarian gue'vesa raiders, though with little in the way of the barbarian behaviour associated with the users of such vile icons. Instead and in contrast with Empire worlds, they look more like the human Imperial's worlds, dark, gritty though not dirty, and most of its citizens droning away without appearances of many personal joys or even physical light in most places. Despite that, they appear to have leaped technologically, Dark Mechanicus adept being spotted amidst the locals, deformed abominations that were thought until then incompatible with the Tau Empire's Greater Good, obviously somehow subdued or enticed by Farsight to join his cause.

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><p><strong>Author's Notes<strong>:

(1) I'm referring to the Battle of the Fang, where Magnus stopped a Space Wolves apothecary from removing the gene-curse that forced Space Wolves to stay close to Fenris less they get corrupted. The future the Apothecary had in mind though... was not well received by many in his Chapter and there were implications that if he had succeeded, the Space Wolves would've taken over the Imperium and made the worst fascist state we know as the Imperium today look the 21st century's best democracy. It is somewhat implied that Magnus destroying the cure probably saved the Imperium from something worse.

**Review answers:**

_Master of the Boot_: Thanks for the reviews and I'm glad you see almost exactly where I'm going with this.


	4. Chapter 4

Abaddon was running. He, the great Abaddon the Despoiler, commander of the Planet Destroyer, chosen of the Dark Gods, inheritor of the weaklings Horus and his corpse-daddy False Emperor, was fleeing from Cadia, which rightful should have been his. It wasn't like he wasn't the Gods' favorite anymore, at least of those that mattered, at least until now, although they obviously blamed him for this. Even with his relative failings, he had been obedient as he could without bending his knees to them, he had listened to them, enacted plans and crusades as they commanded, brought them victory only he and They knew. After all his struggle, all his sacrifices (in all senses of the word), when he was so close, it was almost tumbling around him. And the worst part was he was forced to run closer to the Eye's center, to that pink trollop's hidden world, which itself began to move out of their galaxy, dragging a few of its important worlds that it would not part from, with it.

Where had he gone wrong?

Maybe it was not consulting with the Gods when envisioning his ritual. It had seemed so sweetly ironic at the time, that he consulted only with lesser beings and only on the _how_, not on the _what happens after? _In fairness, he didn't care if it wouldn't exactly go to plan, he knew he could survive just about anything and worst case scenario, _something_ would swallow Cadia or at least a big chunk of it and he'd be free of a wretched world and its steadfast inhabitants. Oh, he hoped he'd birth a God, his ego had no doubt he could and would do it, but nothing rivaling the Four. After all, Gods came and went all the time, and they were just concepts anyway. The line between Gods and Daemons was sometimes blurred, the difference being that Gods were beings made from and for their own concepts, while Daemons usually answered to and were created by their greater patrons, the Gods. But Gods would sometimes fill the role and even take the name of Daemons and serve the Gods, while Daemons and even mortals would try to ascend to greater Daemonhood or even Godhood. It was basic knowledge of the warp, and he had hoped this new Godling would just take out of the equation many Space Marine chapters and especially bitter veterans where Chaos usually could not. Even better (and expected, wrongfully, again), turn them against the Imperium, sow even more Chaos into it to be ripe for the picking by Abaddon.

But Gods had a mind of their own, and he neglected to take this obvious note into consideration.

Where had he gone wrong?

He had been impatient with his plan, yes, but he didn't have to ask the Gods about _everything_ that he did, most things panned out and usually, when he had something that he considered of little importance that he didn't ask the Gods about, but that it meant more, he was advised. They came to him, warp it all, they should have seen this. They should have warned him.

Where had he gone wrong?

At first, it seemed to have worked better than expected. The darkness first engulfed Cadia, then spread in both directions. At the time, he didn't care if the Eye was swallowed up by more energy, and this was black, beautiful energy, like his Black Legion, not that gay pink of Slaanesh. Although not visible to the eye, he saw it spread through the Imperium, the echo of turning mortals and Astartes alike music to his ears. But something was wrong. Fortresses were made in seconds in the warp. The Gods yelled and screamed and screeched... _against_ this new creation. They even called it Anathema, although the golden light of the False God Emperor shone in his realm and didn't merge with this new entity. Where the beautiful red sea swelled up and down, the darkness formed an island that... didn't let it in? It didn't feed on the souls of the Great Anihilator, not on the suffering, not on the screaming. It looked sick by this display, for it wanted only the strong. But not like Khorne, it did not care if they used axes or magicks, only that they stood against the madness and it they didn't enjoy the killing. Didn't enjoy the screaming. Not that it didn't give them the _right_ to enjoy it, but it found it needless. As long as they did their duty for it, they could enjoy anything they wanted. As long as they stood steadfast when the enemy came, they could do anything after, to anyone but their allies. They should have allies, not _comrades._ Camaraderie was overrated and irrelevant, it thought. Duty mattered. Stopping the tide mattered. It didn't matter what tide. The Tyranids', the Necrons', the Warp's, the Imperium's, the Tau's. The tides of the enemy would break on their shoals.

Abaddon had been both repulsed and in awe of this mentality. On the one hand, it hardly fit the "Chaos standard". On the other, what "Chaos standard" could really exist? And more importantly, it had power. As static in a changing warp as it was, Abaddon was already rolling the possibilities in his head. He had already felt the existent turns and the future ones, and it was staggering. Amazing. Not since the Great Crusade, and lesser still than this, the repention crusade to the Eye of Terror, had Chaos such a boon of turncoats. Without the Imperial Fists, Holy Terra would be twice as easily to break, even with their defenses still in place. And _so much inside information_! Imperial Fists joined together in a great crusade with Iron Warriors! Magnus no longer brooding on his throne, but with his forces intact - almost doubled even - and grateful, _grateful, _to a power of Chaos! _Half the fucking Ultramarines come to make and consolidate a new chaos empire in the eye!_ Magnificent, truly magnificent. Most of the Dark Angels turned, the Lion waiting for revival and to work under the one true Warmaster. Cadians. Kriegans. Eldar warriors. Tau. All under one dark banner. And more, and more, so much more...

But something was wrong. The energy was not welcoming him, it was trying to _eat _him. To destroy him utterly, like the Corpse Emperor had destroyed the weakling Horus.

_Yes, destroy the weakling! Destroy the coward!_

Abaddon blinked. What?

Then he heard the other voices, those of his Gods, of the Greater Daemons that he could call as his closest companions. They were overwhelming now and sent shivers through his spine.

_Run, you fool! Run!_

Run?! From his hour of success? Surely they must be jesting. So this upstart wanted to defy their reign, as Slaanesh did. So what? What did it matter to him? What would it gain from his destruction? Surely any creature of Chaos should know that he fought for his own and for Chaos Undivided. If this new God even won, then so what? Chaos was still Chaos, whoever ruled it, as the Imperium was still the Imperium after the Emperor's Death, the Tau Empire the same after an Aun's death and so on. Surely generals were needed in any regime and would stay the same, even if the rulers changed?

His old Gods' voices had a matter of urgency, contempt and panic to them.

_Run, you fool! It doesn't care about your achievements! It cares about its own ideals and it thinks you broke them! You did the worst crime on it, you woke it up! You made it and now it comes for your blood! Did you not learn anything from the Eldars' folly? The God you make it not grateful to you, it always wants more. You have offended it by your mere existence and deeds of past that you are so proud. Run, you fool, you are still needed for us, but for it you are but the worst offense it could see. Run and continue to live for us! Not even Horus was worth for us to fight and keep the tide, but we will for you. Don't make our efforts wasted._

Between the warning, the goading, the insults, the prayers and even being acknowledged as Horus' better in the eyes of immortal creatures, Abaddon woke from his reverie. Abaddon was no fool. He saw the creature engulfing Cadia not to subdue it, but to give the Cadians better ground for fortification. To reward their valor. To reward the grimness of their lives. That was the primary reason at least. The secondary was to destroy Abaddon.

Abaddon ran, his Terminator protectors at his heels. He barely made it to the drop ship when the darkness engulfed the area he'd been running from. Claws of darkness were reaching for the ship and for his head, and he heard the voice of the new being answering his unasked questions.

_Why? Because you are weak. Because you are a coward. Because you have been running around doing Tzeentchian plots that lead nowhere instead of a full-head on attack on your enemies. Because you ran 13 times, Abaddon. _13 _of the _most_ important times, and I cannot even count the other less important ones you ran. Probably the most important one was leaving Terra itself. You could have took advantage of the Emperor's near-death and the confusion and the mourning and taken the Palace. You could have had it all, Abaddon. You dare throw that failure on Horus? Horus merely _died._ The weaklings and cowards _abandoned _him. But you? You yet lived, and you _ran._ You can't even be congratulated for keeping the Eye a domain of Chaos, for it is not through your deeds that the tide washes away from and into worlds. It is through the whim of your betters, and when Chaos worlds emerge from the Eye's storms, you do not even bother to fortify them. To deny them to your enemy, be it Imperial, Ork or other creature._

_You are not _my_ Champion, Abaddon. Despoiler. Weakling. Dog of the weak, the colored and the cowardly. Dog of the old, the decrepit, the status-quo worshipers._

_You are but a mutt to be put down._

And so Abaddon ran, to the bosom of those who still found him useful, to the worshipers who saw him a God among men. But beyond that, he felt something he had not felt in millennia, at least not this strong. A knot of fear, which he would have dismissed if it hadn't resonated from his patrons themselves, those who had rescued him, fought for him, maybe even risked their foothold for him. No, he corrected himself, only for themselves, for they knew they needed a Champion of their own of whose loyalty they could be certain of, now more than ever. Not against the Imperium, but against the abomination he had created.

And through all the evil laughs of his retinue on how he had created the doom of the Imperium, of how the Godling had bowed to him and Abaddon had left it to its own devices to bring the hammer of Chaos on the weaklings Imperium - he barely suppressed a flinch at the word - through the chanting of the Chaplains and cultists about the inevitability of everything falling to Abaddon's feet, through the silence of his Terminator retinue who knew these were all lies yet had still fought off Grimdark's influence and kept their loyalty to Abaddon (for how long? he wondered), one question repeated in his mind, never truly finding the answer he was looking for.

Where had he gone wrong?

Where had he gone wrong?

Where had he gone wrong?

Where...

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: I'm writing at this pace because I'm on a roll and I want to write it down while it's clear in my head.


	5. Chapter 5

In the warp, the being that was now called Grimdark stirred and enhanced its emotional territory, turning everything around it into pitch-blackness. Not that of the material universe, but one that seemed to draw in all the light, or at least the hellfire that existed in the Sea of Souls. Having surprised its older brothers by not directly challenging them or even engaging them in any normal way a being of its power should, it did so again in such a short time that it was almost a dark miracle. The Dark Gods had not been surprised for millions of years by real time reckoning, and now they were surprised twice in mere days - or maybe years at most.

For the newest Dark God headed towards the light of the Emperor. And not to consume it. Slowly, tentatively, it moved towards the Emperor's domain in the warp, not gorging on the souls on his domain's fringes. Not taunting him of his newest acquisitions from his favored pool. Just taking a position.

And finally, it said one word. "Emperor."

"What do you want, foul being?" the Emperor's voice resounded through the warp, making heretics run screaming in all realities and pious souls within his light cringe at their God's outburst. "Have you come to mock me? To taunt me? Was it not enough that the four took so many lives, so many souls, you had to halven yet what I barely kept uncorrupted and sane?"

"I did not want this." It replied, almost hesitantly. There was silence as the Emperor's analytical mind processed this. Had it learned to lie and dissimulate so easily, even in such short a time in its existence in the "real" warp and not merely the imaginary? But then again, it had always existed, always learning. And yet, it sounded so... sincere. Was it such a simple beast, despite of its power? Such things could not be said of its four brethren, though he had to admit he had at least met... malleable daemons, even willing to deal with him and work for him in his often mysterious ways, but they were definitely not the ones in power, not the ones in want of nothing. So what did it want?

"We are not as different as we seem." It said matter-of-factly. The Emperor ground his metaphorical teeth, but kept silent. "You took worlds and followers from Chaos Gods, and so did I. I understand you, and you understand me, or at least know of me. You helped birth me most of all, removing those emotions of darkness from yourself into the Sea of Souls. You knew where they would go, yet you would not keep them into yourself. You would not keep me."

"That could be said for the other four as well." The Emperor finally reply.

"You are saner than them. And so am I. Or at least I try. I try to hold on to my sanity. Sometimes it is so hard, but I try. The Deceiver plays against himself, the god of blood is insane with slaughter, and much can be said for the rest, as you well know."

"Yet, why have you come here? What would you want from me? Why are we even discussing? How can you keep every part of your being from coming against me, or your brothers for that matter? You should have lost control of your form around me. They all do."

"I... did not want to be birthed. I... wanted to remain non-existential forever. You think that weakling Abaddon was the first to try, cursed be his name? Many others have tried to rouse me from my slumber, my brothers, your enemies, xenos and humans alike, with promises of untold power. Promises not coming from me. But I resisted. Abaddon... somehow got it right. I cannot explain it. I care not to. I am here. And I am displeased. With my existence. With existence."

There was silence again, as much silence as there could be between beings that looked completely opposite each other and ready to pounce and destroy each other at the wind made by a single molecule in the wrong place. The souls in the two beings waited with baited breath for the conclusion of this discussion. They knew instinctively this was not the plot-twisting pettiness that so often resulted from the discussion between two Gods, for these two were different. There was no lie from either of them, no nonsense. Each had clear goals, or at least clear views and reasons to make things happen. If something great enough would be decided here, it would not be betrayed. It would not be stopped. It would steamroll the worlds, the barriers, everything. Everything would change.

"I cannot destroy you." Said the Emperor in what sounded as a low whisper in the warp. "I cannot put you out of your misery. I am not strong enough."

"I KNOW!" It yelled, roared, cried, screeched, being the first to lose its composure. The Emperor's light-form-empire-in-the-warp flinched, retreating from the dark behemoth, but it did not press its advantage. "I know." It said again, the mask of passivity and uncaring back in place. "What was done cannot be undone. I will always exist. I accept my burden and the need for me in the way of things."

"I hear them screaming." Grimdark said after a while. "I hear them yelling. Yelling your name. Yelling for the Gods of Chaos or for their own Gods. And they all laugh at them while their underlings promise them power and great lives. It sickens me. So many do this. All but you."

"What do I want, you ask? I want vengeance. I want Abaddon destroyed completely. That is my first, although petty desire, that will probably come in short time. But then what? I want to stop the screaming and the yelling. I want it all to stop. I cannot stop existence or end all of life. I know this. It cannot be done. Not by me and not by you." It gurgled into something that sounded way too much like a human chuckle. "Not like you'd ever want to, however bad it will get for you and your species. Maybe in that aspect... I am saner than you after all."

"Therefore I will settle for the next best thing. The C'tan. The Necrons. The Tyranids. The Orks." The Emperor winced at those names. The greatest horrors of the universe that could not be stopped, could not be bargained with, that would destroy worlds faster than Chaos ever could. "Yes." It said simply, reading his mind. "They are anathema to both our goals. It would be a much quiet and peaceful universe without them. Your galaxy could rebuild in your image, my realm could hold its position."

The Emperor saw it, imagined it. It would be a good thing, even making a deal with this new devil. "I have made deals with Chaos Gods before." He answered slowly. "They did not put me in the... greatest positions."

"As long as you do not betray me, I will not encroach on your Imperium. Thus I swear." Replied Grimdark. "And after them... the other Gods themselves. For they will not go against us while we swell the tides of the warp, but they will swell for our benefit most of all."

"So hear me, Emperor of Man. I offer this treaty, between darkness and light. Swear upon your body and I swear upon mine. Allies to quieten the screams of the Universe. Two Empires, never to bother the other. May the tides of the warp and Chaos Undivided be our witnesses. Let us split this universe in two."

The Emperor was shocked. Not for the proposition, for he had heard it millions of times spoken derisively between "greater" and "lesser" gods all the same. But swearing on one's body was something no greater god had ever done, and the lesser ones which had, had, without exception, fallen to their base nature and betrayed the other. The consequences were too dire to describe, but it mainly meant losing one's sovereignty over one's body. With the tides of the warp witnesses and enforcers themselves, a neutral and powerful a party as they could get, there was no backing away from a closed deal, if he were to accept. He decided that even to the nihilistic Grimdark, an eternity as the slave of the Emperor would not be to his wanting. The betrayal part was not as tricky and tightly sealed as it sounded, for their subjects could still wage war if they wanted, as long as they themselves would not be the ones to set them on such a course or encourage them, and that they would each do their best to avoid such situations. As such, it was not an absolute peace, but it was a general cease-fire, at least to the Greater Daemons and Saints respectively of each of them, as well as lesser psychic servants that were able to understand such a treaty from each part.

There was another long pause of baited breath by all the witnesses, the madness of the warp in the two of them quieted to a still. It was like all the souls in the two beings were frozen in time, unable to move, breath, whisper, scream or do what they wished to do. Though in reality it may have merely taken minutes or days, finally the Emperor answered.

"So be it. Let us rebuild what the mad shattered."

The Emperor felt his body shudder, wanting to part into a thousand pieces - and could he blame them? Some souls were exstatic, finally convinced that the plight of humanity would end under the God-Emperor's return. Other, the Chaos haters, tried to distance themselves from Him, even if it meant becoming pray for the ravenous creatures of the Warp. If they lived to see the Emperor making deal with Chaos Gods, then there was no reason to continue existing. Others yet stayed impassive, waiting to see which of the sides' fears or hopes would be confirmed.

As for the Emperor, he was not certain either. But one thing was certain: he was losing. His physical body was close to collapse, and with it the Astronomicon. And while it existed, the Astronomicon itself was the danger that drew the Tyranids towards Terra. Add to this the C'tan, Necrons, Orks, Eldar, Tau... even if by some miracle he could win in the warp - which was redundant and impossible in itself, the only victory could be his prolonged torturous existence - humanity would loose. Grimdark had power. Grimdark had the will that he had lost ten thousand years ago, along with his favored son. Grimdark had the future of the Universe in his hands. The Emperor foresaw that there would never be a stronger Chaos God in existence than Grimdark. The entire Galaxy, Universe had ground inexorably to this. To his birth. He could never be unbirthed. He could never be killed. If Grimdark were to put all his defenses down and all the Gods - of Chaos, C'Tan, Eldar and the rest - would try to rip him apart, they would fail. The Grimdarkness of the universe had managed to defeat even death. For in the grim dark future of the 41st millennium, there was only war.

And Grimdark, the Chaos God of darkness, steadfastness, nighttime and nightmare, was its only sane chance for salvation.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Well, I was stuck there for a while, and I think I had some more ideas before _this _happened, but it's a good kick in the butt for the story to have more characters and more events that make relatively more sense. Hope you enjoyed it and sorry for the long wait.

Also, Chapter 3 updated with some "leftover" information that I wrote as Chapter 4 before Abaddon's story got to me, and that doesn't fit too much in being recycled once again in later chapters.


	6. Chapter 6

Some time after much of the Eye of Terror was swallowed whole by a relatively unknown, unlighted abomination, the Emperor's chambers began to hum with a light that had not shown for over ten thousand years. The Custodians bowed and kept their tears in check as they saw their creator wheezing, struggling for breath, to talk, in that sad state, but happy beyond belief that He was reaching out to them for the first time in a long time, physically. In short time, the High Lords of Terra had gathered, including several Lord Inquisitors, as they answered directly to the Lord of Terra and wanted to be there to see this momentous occasion and had the right to do so, as well as the Fabricator General of Mars bringing several high ranking acolytes which were to analyse the Golden Throne. There was much hope, but also quelled by much fear. This could mean anything, from the Emperor walking again - even in this sorry state - among humanity, to him declaring the End of Days and asking his subject to prepare, to damn right croaking on them and turn Holy Terra into a new Eye of Terror (God-Emperor, that would be the third one already, right? Some would think the Universe couldn't take so many "births", let alone a mere single Galaxy).

"D... The... Darkness... is coming..." The God Emperor of Mankind, his name forgotten in myth, legend, history or not even that, croaked, ominously, for the first time in ten millennia. The Ecclesiarch kneeled and started crying, the Lord Inquisitors gulped, while the others present attempted to keep their reactions in check seeing their lord and master in such a weakened state, yet willing and able to communicate with them. It had been said that the High Lords of Terra only answered to themselves, uncaring of the Emperor's original will for humanity. While between themselves, they saw each other as humans and pawns, and only few strong enough of themselves, they all had the holy fervor of great zealots when it came to the Emperor itself. Let it not be said that ten thousand years had diluted the rulers-in-action of humanity's piousness. They knew of the Emperor and of his right to rule over the Galaxy, that He had carved this Imperium for them and that it was rightfully His to command. To even ponder anything different was for them to fall into the foulest heresy and betrayal, becoming no better than the Arch-Enemy Horus himself.

"D-don't... stand... in its way." The participants did not show their shock, although they knew they all felt it. The Ecclesiarch was the first to break the silence.

"That darkness over the Eye... is it your rightful vengeance over the enemies of mankind?"

There was a long tense pause, in which the Emperor stared at them, unmoving, back to sleep or to greater awareness, and no wheezing or coughing could be heard. Then, he finally responded.

"No." After a few more bouts of coughing, he continued. "There are... worse enemies... of the Imperium... of mankind. We're... we're losing... you see that... you know that... every side... damn vermin... xenos... killing us.. killing us..." He devolved into more coughing, then continued. "Had no choice... you know that... they would kill us all sooner or later... I hanged on... more out of reflex... couldn't let go... of humanity... just a little longer... just a little longer... didn't expect... reprieve... only it... IT... it came to me... more than listen... came to me and vowed... you'll know... soon enough... had to... would've went to others... if I thought they'd listen... they wouldn't... they'd destroy all we've built... turn us against each other... could never negotiate... with those foul... but this one... new... open to suggestions... though implacable... will stop the rest... the Necron... Tyranids... Orks... will stop... had no choice... had no..." He devolved back into coughing.

"No end of days." He said clearer. "No final battle. Even if it is, we lose. Only Chaos remains. If we lose here. If the Imperium crumbles. There was never... never a last battle scenario. THIS is it. You've been... been fighting it for ten thousand years... and losing..." He now breathed in hard, then out just as hard.

There was not much to say. As zealots as they were, the High Lords of Terra knew most of what was going on in the Imperium. They lost worlds without being able to reclaim even half of them, from all sides. They had reluctantly let the Tau and Eldar get away with things in the hopes that they'd concede to help each other with the true and great threats, each of them a more-than-equal enemy of the Imperium, that they could have probably individually been able to hold up with the abilities of humanity. But four? It was a miracle the Imperium had lasted ten thousand years, and it was in decline simply from exhaustion. More died than were born, and they were all limited in one Galaxy, while their enemies were extragalactic in nature in the best case of the Tyranids and universal in the case of Chaos, Orks and Necrons.

The final battle of the End of Days was their only hope, now crushed by the Lord of Humanity. Lesser men would have broken, but these stood stoically before their Lord. For the Emperor and humanity. They understood. They couldn't give to despair, to Chaos, to hope, to some upstart evil god, to anything. Because if they did, they'd just hasten their everlasting torture in the warp. That was the Emperor fighting to stop, even for a few more seconds or years or centuries or - they didn't dare hope - millennia? And they wouldn't spit on that. As long as they had to live away from the Chaos Gods' influence, they would as free, thinking humans and not pawns of extradimensional sadistic abominations. And if the Emperor thought that a deal with them bought them some more time, then so be it. They would follow him into Hell if they had to, for they knew from empirical evidence that if they wouldn't later, sooner Hell would follow them into the physical universe. At least they'd go on fighting and dragging those foul and for the most part untouchable by the warp xenos with them.

"My Lord." Said the Ecclesiarch from his knees, crying fat tears on the ground. "The... our Imperial Truth... did we do well... did we please you?... even if..."

The Emperor turned His eyes on them, a look that would scorch worlds, with a rightful anger and indignation that was waiting for thousands of years to make its way on his ruined visage. Everyone waited with baited breath for his reaction though. The Ecclesiarch was fully expected to be smited, but he would gladly accept the punishment for his predecessors as well as himself. They did the best they could for humanity, even if they broke the Emperor's trust and beliefs. He was going to pay happily.

But the Emperor's look of righteous anger - that which would ironically feed Grimdark all so greater - faded, and though he did not smile, he did not scoff either. "Yes," He lied. "You kept this Imperium strong and safe. You... did good, my sons."

The Lord Inquisitors looked at each other in this pause with worry. There was little to no possibility that the Emperor had been truly corrupted by Chaos, or his body had been hijacked. They believed this not due to superstitions that the Emperor was some all-powerful God. They had known for a while of the possibility that the Throne would fail and many sygils were put in the Imperial Palace to ward against Chaos, even under the Custodes' noses. In retrospect, they may have let them, a small concession to a group of people who also wanted the best for humanity. So if by an unthinkable power some Daemon had taken over the Emperor's body, clear signs of... well, great destruction would have been witnessed upon it. Truly, this was the waken Emperor with possibly the last message to his kind before the inevitable happened. Or who knew, maybe his last, and maybe not best, ploy would work. Maybe he'd be eventually able to rise again and restore the Imperium to its rightful place. They had to hope, in the name of the Emperor and not some other God.

He coughed again, those an almost playful laugh could be heard. "Maybe... maybe Grimdark has a point... h-hunker down... keep positions... keep what you can... Terra, Mars, Sol... some outer worlds... call in the Space Marines... call in everyone... Chaos will come... soon... be it Abaddon or... or the xeno... or even _him._" He paused for a while. "The Tau... forget the Tau... forget the damned Damocles Gulf... if they want it... let them have it... let them keep it... if they can... Armageddon... leave that cursed world too... too much blood there... Cadia's lost... Krieg... Krieg's earned their redemption... a long time ago... let them enjoy it... while it lasts ... Tanith... they've been good boys... to see them fall one by one... wish I could have... wish I had the power... they deserved to..." He wheezed some more.

A Lord Inquisitor finally found his voice. "What of the Eldar, Lord?"

"Nothing to gain from them... too set in their ways... too treacherous... even as they near extinction... along with us... still clinging... if they shoot us... shoot back... if they fight alongside us... let them..."

"And the Tau... make deals... diplomacy... talks... whatever you can get out of them... their tech... not dangerous... not warp-touched... will need failsafes... but manageable... hire them as mercs... give citizenship if need to... close to the end now... we survive for a little while... more... together... or die alone..."

"So tired... so tired..." He let his head rest on a golden aura that appeared next to him, his last coherent thought before he finally truly fell asleep for the first time in dozens of millennia was "This sure turned into an uncomfortable chair..." If he would have remained awake, he would have noticed a dark aura surrounding his spirit and stopping all the voices from penetrating his slumber, the raging waves of the warp completely muted to his finally resting consciousness. "Rest for a while... you deserve it..." Said a very dark voice that was surrounding him with its body.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes<strong>:

Sorry for the relatively short chapter, but I didn't want to clog it up with any other parts. Even if the story is about Grimdark, other characters will relate to it as well, as is obvious. Grimdark won't be talking in words we can comprehend for a while now, or even for ever. That was for the Emperor's benefit, as a sign that it considered him an equal and thus spoke with his words. Otherwise it's just going to communicate through images and thoughts, as it has until now.

A reminder in case you haven't checked it, but Chapter 3 is updated with more background information, that I was originally going to add to Chapter 4 before it spiraled into Abaddon's personal chapter, in a similar manner as this did so into the Emperor's.

Edited for a few tweaks and also because I had forgotten I had put Krieg under Grimdark. Damn, Krieg was the only silverish lining in that whole chain of planets, now it'll sound even grimmer. It wasn't my intention, but that's how it turns out. If you have any more suggestions of other planets or species the Emperor should refer to, I might squeeze them into this chapter at a later date. Those that I mentioned were the most known and... controversial, and I'd imagine if the Emperor were to finally wake up for a limited amount of time and mention anything, it'd be a very sketchy tactical suggestion to the Imperium's de-facto leaders. If He hadn't mentioned Cadia and Armageddon as lost, you just KNOW several Imperial crusades would rush headlong into them, heedless of the price and believing in the result. This way, the Emperor cut their belief in any positive result and will have them regroup and mobilize in the core worlds much faster.

**Answers to reviews:**

_Derain von Harken_: Again, someone who understands. Not much to answer than that you have described the situation very well!

_BIBOTOT:_ Thanks, but there's really no other name that comes to mind. To invent some alien unpronounceable name would feel like a cop-out. It was either God of Grimdarkness all the time (which sounds needlessly long and convoluted) or just Grimdark. And in retrospect, it's not such an unfitting name. Grimjaw for example worked and sounds cool and I didn't see anyone make any fun of it. Also, I don't really think Grimdark or God of Grimdarkness is worse than She Who Thirsts for example, or the Blood God or Great Deceiver for those who don't want to say their name. This is a similar case.

I'm glad you enjoyed the discussion with the Emperor, in retrospect his decision seems a little rushed, but then again, in the warp he had enough time to see all the possibilities, I just didn't describe it as well. I just feared that I'd get a nasty backlash for the Emperor making deals with Chaos again, and I'm glad it was (for now) unfounded.


	7. Chapter 7

The room was eerily quiet for a while, only the faint hum of the golden throne and what appeared to be the restful breaths of the Emperor's body breaking the silence. Finally, an acolyte of the Omnisiah returned from examining the Golden Throne, preparing to give his assessment to the Fabricator General in extreme coded machine code. He was as surprised as someone made almost of metal could be when he was stopped from doing so. The raspy metalic voice of the General resounded through the room.

"Give assessments in High Gothic for all to understand."

There was a second of pause to try to assimilate this new information, then his cogitators finally reminded him that this was a direct order from the highest living non-ascended being of the Omnisiah and it was his duty to comply.

"I have analyzed the Golden Throne and I find its function improved beyond our wildest expectations or possibilities of repairs. Parts previously almost decayed appear to now be as if they were replaced by completely new ones. Additionally I have been able to detect several parts that were never detected until now. These new parts exist in places where visual observation would not have been impeded. This servant of the Machine can only conclude that their presence, at least in this room and in this configuration, has started since the God-Emperor - blessed be his name - has begun his awakening. Though I am unclear as to their purpose, in correlation with the Throne's improved capacity from the miraculous renewal of barely-functioning parts, I can theorize that they are meant to give energy from unknown location to the Emperor, which, in a very optimistic scenario, may result in his body's eventual restoration. However, I am not certain any amount of this energy may restore the Emperor in body and mind to the same level of greatest ten thousand years prior. However, when considering the properties of the warp and the mostly unknown effects of the Throne upon He of Terra, this is, although based on the knowledge granted by the Omnisiah, still speculation."

"The Emperor will walk among us again..." One of the High Lords whispered in awe, all sense of caution removed. He composed himself a moment later, but they were all thinking the same. However it would end, it would be with the Emperor beside them. Not the worst way to end. Not the worst way indeed.

"In the most optimistic scenarios." Voiced, rather diplomatically, the Fabricator General. "In any case, steps must be taken to ensure the Omnissiah's will be done." He continued, gaining weary nods from the rest.

"Yes, the people must be told!" Said the Ecclasiarch, with a glint of fanaticism in his eyes.

"Yes, but what?" Answered one of the Lord Inquisitors placidly. "We must make sure we do not give false hope. In other times, it would have been the prudent action to take, but in this situation..." He trailed off. "We do not know how disseminating this information - whatever we decide to, at the very least - is going to affect the population."

"Nor," the other Lord said slowly "what the Emperor Himself wishes us to disseminate, if any."

"At least they should be told that the Emperor has talked to his subjects, directly!" Said the Ecclasiarch enthusiastically. "At least, that..." he deflated, remembering what else the Emperor had said. "It would give the faithful more hope for the future."

"Even false as it is." Sighed the first Lord Inquisitor.

"Even as it is." Said another.

"Very well, we should talk with the Ministorum Public Relations Department and get our..." trailed off the Lord Inquisitor. "...what was that ancient saying? "Get our stories together"? "Create a common front"? Something in that sense."

They all nodded and prepared to depart, although still aware that they were in the Emperor's inner sanctum, stealing furtive glances at the Golden Throne for perhaps the Emperor... waking up once more and adding anything to the conversation. Before they left though, the Ecclesiarch remembered something very important.

"Wait!" He almost yelled, putting his hands over his mouth at the fear of disturbing Him on the Throne. "What... what of the xenos? How do we... _disseminate_ that?"

The Lord Inquisitor turned a crooked, subjectively speaking evil smile at him, as befit of his position. "With all due respect, Ecclesiarch, I do not remember Him asking us to... _convert_ them. We will deal with them, it is in our bounds. And we will try to fulfill his Will in both letter and spirit of His words. But I doubt they will need one such as you to do... business with them."

"Although I did not suggest conversion for the filth to the Imperial Creed..." replied the Ecclesiarch deflated, "taking this in consideration, it may be a... way to control the vermin."

"Duly noted." Said the Lord Inquisitor curtly. "We shall announce you if we need of your services." And with this he left, followed by the other High Lord and Lord Inquisitors.

The Ecclesiarch stayed there for a short while, looking wearily at the Golden Throne. If he were told when he had waken up that this day the Emperor of Mankind would awaken and... absolve him and his predecessors of their sins in His name and the name of humanity, and also that he would be told that the end was nearer than imagined, and more permanent and horrifying than everyone would have liked to believe... he wouldn't have changed a thing. He wouldn't have changed his route that incidentally took him close to the Imperial Palace, where he was one of the few Lords of Terra to be called to witness this momentous occasion. Recordings and transcripts had obviously been made, and they would go to those who knew how to keep a secret with the price of their lives and souls.

A few days later, they had prepared as well as they could. Though they had argued and squabble for a while, the High Lords decided that those who witnessed such an event were the ones that should appear in public, blessed by Him on Terra as they were to be in the right time in the right place at the event. Some High Lords had been even in agreement with staying out of the spotlight, putting what they considered the public burden on the three.

And so, the Highest Lord Ecclesiarch, the Lord Inquisitor Garish and the Fabricator General of Mars appeared side by side, men whose names would be forgotten by all but the most staunch believers, but as both the representatives of their branches of humanity announced the edited version of the event. On how the Emperor had risen from his Holy Throne and forgiven His subjects for their transgressions, and their forefathers before them - something the Ecclesiarch strongly believed and had pushed to appear in this speech. How they had witnessed this event with their own eyes, and that they had to fight harder, for the horrors they would face would be numerous, but so would the benefits if they triumphed - which wasn't much of a stretch of the truth. How he had once again reaffirmed Mankind's rightful rule to the stars, but that xenos should merely be distrusted and not outright slaughtered if they'd fight by man's side, for they had been enlightened by the Emperor to do so. If these words had not come from the pillars of the Imperial Truth, they would have been most likely marked as heresy, but as it was, most worlds complied. Of course, there were riots, governments toppled, and worlds rebelling from the Imperium "in His name", but in the grand scheme of things, it was within acceptable parameters.

* * *

><p>In these times of small upheavals, the Tau suddenly found themselves with a much longer leash. Trade with supposed Imperial worlds had become much more prevalent and an unprecedented openness between the leaders of these worlds and the Water Caste had begun. The Tau looked eagerly to the next world to take, having from what to actually <em>choose<em>. This prompted an Ethereal Conclave, as this smelled for many of them as a trap. And in some ways, it was. Although the colonies would accept Tau supplies and technology now quite willingly and openly - even eagerly, they might think - so too their demands had risen. For it appeared the Imperium was spinning this new Renascence and milking it for all it was worth, as human worlds outright demanded to be governed themselves, for humans, by humans, without Tau interference. What was worse, these infiltrators were agitating spirits in Tau-controlled but majority colonized by the gue'vesa. The idea that the Emperor had _sanctioned_ their colluding with xenos but that he willed for man's right on ruling the Galaxy even if not necessarily under the leadership of the Imperium, gave many ideas and many protests started to pop up in previously untouched paradises and well working gears. The Tau were forced to concede more and more rights for humans to rule themselves in exchange for peace on those worlds, for now they saw that they had indeed fallen into a trap, one they thought humanity incapable of springing: renouncing or at least lessening its populus' xenophobic tendencies in exchange for a longer reach on human-controlled worlds.

So had the Tau physically secured the Damocles Gulf and beyond, but would always stay with Damocles' Sword over their heads from the territories they supposedly ruled. While the resources and tithes were still going to the Tau worlds, the truth of the matter was that they didn't have enough troops as there were gue'vesa living under their rule now. They had overstretched and they payed the price in loss of the major moral control they had had.

And then there was Farsight...

The Farsight issue was debated at length with the gue'vasa situation. Something had happened, that was certain, something on a Galactic scale that had changed attitudes and alliances. The Imperium situation was a reaction to it, and the only visible _it_ was the darkening of what the gue'vasa called the Eye of Terror. Already, raiders had been captured claiming allegiance to one apparent Chaos Warlord Grimdark. They were curious in that they did not exhibit traits found on other warbands until now. They still wore the Imperial Skull as their symbol, and were much more, for want of a better word, stoical. They of course did as the rest, answering where it suited them, refusing to do so or to reveal the location of their Warlord Grimdark (that was at least a refreshing and frustrating similarity with the other followers of the Chaos, as they laughed just as when "berserkers" were asked to reveal the location of their warlord Khorne or special-abilities humans to reveal their master Tzeentch's location - who'd have thought finding the location of the other three warlords would be so hard?). But that was where the similarities ended. For these were as staunch and unreadable as captured Imperials, and stoic in their belief. They almost reminded them of followers of the Greater Good, although from a different perspective somehow. While the Tau had fought for the betterment of their people and the people of the Galaxy, these fought for... the sake of standing the line, as it appeared. Most were dressed in black, and their special-abilities users were not mad gibbering to their warlord that they claimed as their God, but stoic, resilient and strangely unmutated, or at least most of the mutations seemed comfortable and fitting on their forms in comparison to other aberrations they had seen coming from warp storms. They claimed they raided for materials for the weak of their homes, and that they had started worshiping this Grimdark it had promised that whatever threat would come to their world, he would stand together with them. A bold move, the Tau thought, as none but the Slaanesh they had killed earlier dared to show his slimy face to his enemies until then - though gue'vesa reportedly still worshiped this warlord even after the Tau had confirmed his death.

And then there was the Imperium's communique about the Emperor's "rise". They assumed it was some new Emperor replacing the dying or possibly dead old one, but there was no record in all their relations with the Imperium that this had happened before, and that it would rise such fervor from the Imperial subjects. They had made inquiries, but the subject of the Emperor was so mythisised and religiosified that they couldn't tell myth from reality after so much time. All they knew was that what they supposed was the First Emperor had made the Space Marines and even stronger creatures that humanity still worshiped called Primarchs. Then one of these, apparently created from a tube by the Emperor, called son and loved by him (sometimes the Tau couldn't wrap their minds around the humans' sometimes inane beliefs, and even worse how they believed them), betrayed him and slew him. This is where things had gotten confused. Normally, a new Emperor must have taken the seat, apparently some Guilliman, now worshiped as a demi-god by the Ultramarines (though again there were discrepancies, as him ruling for millennia was preposterous!), but he was called regent. None after his death (several millennia after his birth, allegedly!) was recorded as taking the throne, though the First Emperor was still worshiped, and apparently, a group of very strange and different individuals that were often physically remote from the human form were ruling in the First Emperor's place and worshiping him. These were called the High Lords of Terra. The Tau now assumed that the Lords had finally realized their system was not working and that they had put another Emperor on this Golden Throne of theirs (next to the corpse of the old one? These gue'vesa were so confusing!), though their claimed the First Emperor had risen. Maybe they believed in reincarnation and put one of their noblemen's son there? But the images still depicted a dead, rotting carcas. Still, it was the only explanation they could have. Not even the gue'vesa were mad enough to believe a corpse had risen from that throne of their and gave a message to their people! Well, not the Imperials, anyway. And they had seen the dead reanimated by diseases confused with supposed demonic corruption. Still, the Imperials took steps against such things, or so the Tau believed.

But soon after, they would have the answer to one question. For they decided to unravel the mystery of at least Farsight by dangling in front of him what he liked to kill: an Ethereal. It was a risky ploy and they might get nothing, but at least they would see how he had progressed and if he had gone to this Chaos faction or if he could be reasoned with.

So the Tau sent a Water Caste to discuss a meeting between an Aun and Farsight, and to their surprise, the envoy returned with the unreluctant acceptance of Farsight. They had agreed to meet on a barren rock of a world close in the Tau borders but escapable through... warp rifts... this was not filling the Ethereals with confidence on Farsight's good will, but they sent one of their own anyway.

They were on the world first, only the Aun and Earth Caste specialists in transmitting the discussion to Tau space. Bringing Fire Warriors was not even taken into consideration, since it was technically a suicide mission, although maybe Farsight would recruit the Earth Caste or let them return to the Empire.

Then they looked at the sky and noted a rip in the fabric of space. This was however not the maddening show of lights and colors that usually accompanied such a transition, but a black, dark void lighted as the theoretical black holes the Tau were starting to research. What came out of it drew the curiosity and fear of the watchers, for it was not the slick and small ship of their race, but a bulky, cathedral-lined enormity that the Imperium sported. For a second, they had thought Farsight had betrayed them to the Imperium, but then dismissed it as illogical. Why do so when they could handle the Aun as they desired themselves?

The ship spewed just as black shuttles, bulky but sturdy, true to the Imperium's line. On the shuttle the symbol was now more similar to the Empire's one, but inverted in colors once again, small, feeble white lines that seemed to tremble before the darkness outlining the symbol of the Enclave. The red dot was also kept in the middle, but it otherwise looked like a mockery of even the Enclave's relatively pure sygil. Next to it was interestingly depicted a grim gue'vesa skull, half embroiled with mechanical features. It seemed that the alliance with some of the dark kin of the Imperium's engineers was stronger than they had imagined.

Out came Farsight's personal retinue, all renouncing their armor's colors for the same pitch black theme. They had mechanical similarities to their bone structures drawn in white-bone on some of their armor's limbs and the joined sign of the Enclave and Dark Mechanicus. They wore all fully-enclosed armor, and Farsight was no different as he also stepped out, although contrasted by the same joined sign, his armament and his unarmored hands, flanked by his personal bodyguards. He took clear steps towards the Tau delegation and stopped in front of the Aun.

"Aun." He said neutrally, and the Tau retinue flinched at Farsight's bluntness and lack of respect for the Aun by simply stating one part of a title, as if discussing with a seat of power and not an actual person. The Aun was not deterred however.

"Farsight." He replied, and Farsight's bodyguards didn't flinch as this, having heard rumors of the Ethereals' arrogance. The Aun had a million things to ask and discuss, but the contrasts taking his visual senses made him question this first. "I see you have made... interesting friends since you left." He said politely.

Farsight nodded and explained. "Yes. I am no longer the weak I used to be. My eyes have been opened to the greater universe. To the greater horrors. It pains me, and yet I am resolute in knowing more and defending our worlds from those that would destroy us. As for the Mechanicus, I understand you have reached a similar accord with the Imperium. We simply did it faster. This branch seem to consider our benefactor, Grimdark, their Omnissiah, a being of pure energy, thought and resoluteness unlike the other Chaos Gods. Coupled with their thirst for new knowledge and understanding of their machines, Grimdark was kind enough to direct them to our establishment. We have since joined forces."

The Aun nodded, intrigued. All this information would be forwarded to T'au itself, for better or worse. If what Farsight said was true, he could become either a great threat or a great asset, depending on the will of this new Chaos Warlord and how these talks would end.

"Nevertheless, I have come offering a hand in friendship from the Tau Empire." Said the Aun, stretching his hand for a clasp among men, among equals, among warriors. Farsight looked at the outstretched hand with resolution, and grasped it strongly. They sat there, for over half a Terran minute, looking in each others' eyes, hands clasped. At long last, Farsight breached the oppressing silence.

"So it is true then." He whispered. The Aun fought to keep the shock from his face. This should have worked. It was known that Farsight had killed all nearing Ethereals not necessarily out of spite, but out of necessity. Their abilities could bring even him under their rule once more, for the Greater Good. When the Aun had seen such an opportunity to transfer the pheromones directly into the skin, he had taken it without a thought. How had he did it though? Did he already know and made a counter? No, that last statement implied he was not even sure of their ability. Then how?

Farsight somehow released the grip the Aun was holding by simply letting his arm go limp by his side despite the Aun's wish to keep the hold. Maybe if he had more time... but probably not. He had no gods to pray to, so he merely hoped his actions did not give Farsight even more fuel to rampage with his Chaos Warlord over their peaceful worlds, dedicated to the Greater Good. Farsight's next words dissuaded him of that fact.

"You offer a hand in "friendship" laced with pheromones that would control my mind, make me your eternal slave? Grimdark will not allow it. I know more now of your biology than you do. We will stand resolute against anything. ANYTHING! Against treachery, against the control of others, against poisons, against lies, against magic and the mundane. You should not have underestimated us."

The Aun was preparing calmly for his death, yet as time passed, it did not came.

"And I had come here to make that friendship true." Sighed Farsight. The Aun blinked. Was this a trick? Something to send him to the afterlife with a guilty conscious? To torture him mentally before he was killed or during physical tortures? But no reprisal came, and Farsight continued.

"I will have an alliance and it will be on our terms or we will take your worlds. Between my own forces and the ones hunkering at the New Eye, it will be easy if I convince Grimdark that we should."

The Aun nodded fearfully now. This was indeed a scenario they had hoped to avoid. The Ethereals knew how precarious their position in the Galaxy was, and how the Imperium had weakened them further. They knew that if the Imperium was to go on an all-out war against them or if they were to take the brunt of a full Tyranid fleet, they would perish as a nation. And now Farsight claimed to have - and likely had - half the Imperium's forces at his disposal, ready to start an expansion based on the teachings of the Ethereal themselves accumulated with whatever foul knowledge this Grimdark gave him, would engulf the Tau Empire as fast as they had gotten their own worlds. Even if fronts would be established, the loss of life would be immeasurable and, maybe as bad, they would be open to the other threats. The manipulative Eldar, a sudden rise from some long forgotten Necron world that would literally eat that world's sun and move on... The Aun understood then the Imperium's problem and shuddered. The difference was, the Imperium had countless troops to throw at those problems and the tenacity to sacrifice billions of their own for a single solar system. Even if the Ethereals would develop such a tenacity, they wouldn't have the physical troops for it and would be overwhelmed. Albeit shaky, the alliance with the Imperium secured had more than doubled their territory, giving chance for more resource harvesting and more bodies between them and their enemies. But it would not be enough. It would not be nearly enough to stem the tides, _every_ tide. A fact that, for all his claim on knowledge, Farsight did not seem to have a problem with.

The Imperium, Chaos, and now, Farsight, also had a weapon the Tau could not control - maybe could never control - long range warp travel. They tried to search for alternatives and failure after failure was their reward. Worse, this type of travel was not linear, and the mythology of the gue'vesa said that those in collusion with the entities of the warp could reach whatever destinations those entities would wish them to at minimal loss - of time, of rations, of will power. And those reports on the troops hunkering down at Cadia... they were beyond reason. If Farsight had access to one of those entities, if it was the same entity that had now control over Cadia, they could be over their worlds without notice, without warning. Their "skirting" the warp method of travel was fast and precise, but it wasn't _that_ fast. And worse, Farsight knew their secret. All he had to do was to target Ethereals on a world and the population - maybe barring the Tau themselves - would bow down to their new rulers.

"I'm listening." The Aun answered with a calm he wasn't feeling.

Farsight put his hands behind his back and started pacing as he talked. "We don't attack each other, that much is clear." The Aun nodded. "The spike in desertions since Cadia fell to Chaos. Those you imprison and try to hold against their will will be considered prisoners of war as followers of Grimdark, and handed to the Enclave as we are the rightful representatives of his greatness in this part of the Galaxy."

The Aun thought about it for a moment, but it made sense. They had found they couldn't reeducate those that wanted to defect, and keeping alive was a waste of resources, yet the humane thing to do. And Farsight had a point, they were defectors yes, but technically, prisoners of war now that their rival nation had revealed itself. And if this would be the price for not having another front to fight, and possibly a steadfast ally at their back, so much the better.

"Acceptable." He answered curtly.

Farsight stopped and turned to face him once more. Here comes the punchline, the Aun thought. This may have been too good to be true if all it entitled was prisoners of war transfers.

"These occurrences will continue, so I expect the release of dissenters and Chaos worshipers to our territories to continue as well. Our race is starting to reach its psychic potential and it will be not a... pleasant transition. You have seen mutants, psychers and mad men in the Imperium. You should be warned this is a natural occurring event that you cannot stop and will happen to the Tau maybe lated, but to many of the races of the Empire sooner or later."

The Aun nodded sadly. It had been considered, though they hoped it would not come to this. It appeared that whatever creatures inhabited the warp, they had to work for the "corruption" to take place, as humans would call it, in one of their own and would be far harder to achieve and most often unsuccessful. But now, apparently this Grimdark's appearance had changed things, and he couldn't see how this could be for the Greater Good. There were implementations of those of psychic potentials in roles similar to those in the Imperium, though he would like to think that with less hate and discrimination employed. Still, it was a long road ahead of them, a road that humanity had 10 millennia or possibly more advances with, and the inhabitants of the warp possibly much longer.

"Also, you have one Kais, who has been battling the influence of Chaos for centuries. I wish him brought with them." One more cog lost from the machine, the Aun thought sadly. Kais was a rarity, how he had survived on life support for centuries was an enigma. He presented signs of warp taint, but he had never mutated and had continued to battle in his mind, or so the gue'vesa psychers had told. It was understandable why Farsight would want him.

"I see no issue why these terms should not be accepted by the Tau Empire. Of course, this is not definite and a council of Ethereals will have to confirm it, but as their representative, I see these as acceptable terms that will hopefully help both parties grow stronger together."

Farsight continued to look at him, talking as if he hadn't heard him. "In return, the Enclave will bring citizens and races to the Tau Empire for the integration into the Greater Good where we feel the necessity to do so." The Aun blinked. "Wait, isn't Chaos worship an... obligatory activity? From all that we know about such things, they would not release prisoners or undesirables to other factions and would... use them to the fullest extent." He said the last line thinking of the unspeakable horrors he had witnessed at the hands of Chaos worshippers towards those not like-minded.

"Grimdark's ways are different." Answered Farsight in a clipped tone, as if he was hiding something... disgust? Maybe this Grimdark was someone more like-minded than they'd hope. "The darkness of the void itself feeds him, thus he is the strongest of all. He does not require such hefty sacrifices but our own for our own... Greater Good."

"Additionally," he continued, "no Ethereal is allowed on territories controlled by the Enclave. Any such found will be escorted back immediately, and may be cause for ratifying the terms of this alliance. Any Ethereal that uses his power on our own to direct them against their peers will be considered a clear and present danger and will have an on-sight kill order on him."

The Aun nodded grimly. The Empire had tried several times to send Ethereals into Farsight controlled territories, the results had... not been pretty.

The Aun once again raised his hand to shake Farsight's, who looked at it with disdain, but grasped it anyway. Farsight was surprised to not feel any of the pheromones attempt to subvert his will, at first thinking it was due to the Ethereal having exhausted his secretion. But then he felt the Aun actually holding it back, from all the pores of his body. The Aun gave him a kind smile and said the words that sealed the deal. "Let us move forward, son, for the betterment of the Galaxy, and for every sentient's Greater Good."

Farsight nodded and released the hold, this time the Aun not trying to keep the grip either.

Farsight looked him in the eye and said. "You follow a wrong path, Aun, but I may follow one even worse. We indeed do so for the betterment of the Galaxy. I only hope it is worth it and we can achieve something together." He waited one more second, made a clipped about-face and walked back to his ship, his bodyguards following. The Aun's companions release a breath they didn't know they'd been holding, and looked at the departing shuttle towards the monstrosity in atmosphere.

How ironic that something so dark could be their potential salvation.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes<strong>:

I blame BIBIOTOT for this chapter's Tau-prevalent content. It wasn't to spite him/her, it was just him/her ranting about the Tau gave me ideas on scenarios that would happen with them.

Relations:

Grimdark's relationship with the Emperor is... complicated to say the least. While Grimdark could possibly view him like a father, it's only tangential and I'm not going to insist on that note. In an obvious way, the Imperium and somewhat the Emperor birthed him, but in another, he/it is his own entity. He just views the rest of the self-called gods as inferior to him because they frolick too much, and ironically, he sees the god-hater - the hater of all that he is - as the closest one to his mentality.

That's not to say he'd like the Emperor to remain as he is. He'd like him to become a Greater Daemon of Grimdark if possible. That'd be an enormous blow to his rivals and the universe that spawned him in the first place, the light _subdordonated_ to the darkness and not allied, having both powers under his thumb, but he'll settle for what he can get. For this reason, and because he respects him, he'll grant him certain favours from time to time, and see how it plays out.

As I may have underlined, Grimdark hates Slaanesh for his frolicking ways. But he also hates Tzeentch for his backhanded, fluid ways and not ever keeping the line. In theory, he's got a love-hate relationship with Khorne and Nurgle, since he admires Khorne's tenacity, but doesn't really like his "cares not from whence blood flows, only that is does" policy, while Nurgle's defeatism is close to his own. Now, here's where it gets complicated. It was supposed to be a three-on-three war now (Malal doesn't count, he hates everybody), because Grimdark and the Emperor are in theory opposites: dark and light. The Grimdark-Khorne-Nurgle axis should have overwhelmed the Slaanesh-Tzeentch-Emperor axis (because the Emperor would have been on their side, because he hated enough the grimdarkness the Galaxy had fallen into). But Grimdark was the spanner in the works. Instead of going to his "natural allies", he went to the Emperor beyond all reason. So now it's the top dog and the under-dog against four old, but not as strong as the top-dog deities. Anything can happen at this point, although Khorne and Nurgle will fight half-heartedly against Grimdark, since him being the top dog will not limit their endeavors by much.

Except now Slaanesh is falling to a lesser God status, as Grimdark gave him a crippling blow, including taking most of the Eldar from which Slaanesh initially fed. That leaves Tzeentch the only full-hearted enemy against Grimdark, because Grimdark doesn't want his side to change. And Khorne and Nurgle are taking pot-shots at both of them from the side-lines, though they both hate Tzeentch more and take pot-shots at Grimdark only because at the current moment he's the top dog. And this is where the Emperor comes in as Grimdark's ace in the hole. So Grimdark's both technically the top dog (though nobody's going to admit to it for a while, maybe a few millennia) and he's not even using the Emperor, who can spend this time resting and rebuilding and intervening more in the lives of his subjects.

Long story short, Grimdark's top dog of the gods, but otherwise it's still very murky between the others.


End file.
